


Everything's Linked

by Rinkafic



Series: Misc Fanfic [20]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:47:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are three shorts I did for Farscapeland's Everything's Linked challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything's Linked

**Delivery Day**  
DK ran into the lab, shouting excitedly as he caught himself on the doorframe, “John! It’s here! The front gate just called, the truck is here!”

“Finally! I thought I was going to have to go to the factory and start banging heads together,” John replied as he got up, tore his lab coat off, balled it up and tossed it on his chair. It was July, in Florida, and it would be hot outside.

He and DK ran to the loading dock and waited impatiently as the forklift operator carefully removed the small bubble wrapped vehicle from the flatbed of the truck. They followed the forklift to the hanger area. John danced from foot to foot in anticipation. Months of planning and designing were finally solid and real in front of them, their blueprints come to life.

DK laughed as he tore off the bubble wrap, he and John took childish glee in popping the plastic as they revealed the white enamel casing of the module. “Aren’t you a beauty?” DK ran his hands over the casing. “It’s just like I drew it, exactly as I imagined it.” The smile on his friend’s face was like a kid at Christmas. Crichton knew the feeling, he was right there himself.

They opened the canopy, each of them hanging over one edge of the lip to look inside the cockpit. DK wrinkled his nose, “Smaller than I thought it would be. When we get the sensor equipment in here, she’s gonna be pretty claustrophobic.”

“I can hack it,” John replied. “Not too much tighter than a fighter jet.” A little discomfort was worth the tradeoff for the information they would be able to get from the equipment. 

“I want to go.”

John gave a sad shake of his head as he wriggled the pilot’s chair; it had not been bolted down at the factory, to make it possible to do the adaptations they planned. “I know you do. I’m sorry, DK. At least the IASA screening tests gave you a heads up on the heart, right? Some small comfort.”

“They could have thrown me off the project.”

“No, they couldn’t. You’re my eyes and ears down here while I’m up there.” John pointed to the area where they would be installing the computer console, “I think we might need to streamline the CPU, make a little more foot room in here.”

“Might not be enough, you have huge feet.”

John reached across the cockpit and playfully pushed at DK’s head. “My feet are the same size as yours! Almost.”

DK rested his chin on the edge of the cockpit. “I still wish I could go.”

“Maybe someday you will. When things can be adapted and adjusted to allow for the pressure and it would be safe for you to go up without…”

“My heart exploding on reentry, I know,” his friend shrugged. “I think we should go grab a few brews and some steak to celebrate. We’ll start assembling things tomorrow.”

“Sounds good,” John agreed. 

Spinning in circles as he crossed the expanse of the hanger, a hanger that would be crawling with techs and scientists tomorrow, DK started singing in an off-key ditty he had made up, “Wormholes! Wormholes, we’re gonna find some wormholes!”

 

 **Coughing Up a Lung**  
John bounced D’Argo on his hip and waited for the bay to pressurize as Aeryn and Chiana came back with the shuttle. They’d been gone three days on what was supposed to be a one day supply run. Three days and they had only sent two short messages that said they were fine, ran into a snag with the trade negotiations and that the crew back on Moya should not worry. 

D’argo cooed and shoved a fistful of the blanket John had wrapped around his shoulders into his mouth. John let him gnaw on it, he was teething, if it stopped the crying, John would suffer damp spots on the blanket. 

“You’re sick,” Aeryn said, accusation in her voice she walked through the hatch and saw him. She always took it as a personal affront when he came down with something. 

He rolled his eyes. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” 

“Ma!” D’argo called, leaning towards her with both chubby arms extended, destroying John’s precarious balance. He barely kept himself upright as Aeryn caught the baby and took him from John’s arms. “Ma, ma, ma, ma!” D’Argo had a very limited vocabulary, ma being both his favorite word and favorite person. 

Aeryn stroked a hand over John’s cheek and forehead. “You’ve a fever. Your color is all wrong. Go to bed, John.”

“I’m so glad you’re home,” John rasped, and started coughing uncontrollably. Chiana came over and started pounding on his back in an effort to help. “I was having a hard time keeping up with him.”

“Chiana, stop, he isn’t choking. Are you choking, John?” Aeryn asked, restign a hand on his shoulder as she looked at him with concern. D’argo was pulling on the ends of her hair, stuffing a fistful into his mouth. 

He shook his head ‘no’ as he bent double, his hand on his knees as he panted for breath. Then he nodded, maybe he was choking, he couldn’t catch his breath. 

“Pilot, how long will it take to get to the closet Peacekeeper Medical Center?”

“Two days.”

“Chiana, take D’argo.” Aeryn handed the baby to her and wrapped an arm around John, “Come on, to bed with you. You’re shaking.”

He stumbled along, leaning heavily on Aeryn. When they got to their quarters, he collapsed onto the bed and rolled himself in the blanket he’d had wrapped around his shoulders. He’d been forcing himself to stay upright and alert for the baby’s sake. As soon as he’d made the handoff, as soon as he knew D’argo would be safe, the last of his reserves had given out. He curled into a ball, coughing. His lungs were on fire. 

A small cough had quickly grown into something else. Aeryn spread another blanket over him and sat on the edge of the bed. “What would you have done if we had not returned?”

John shivered, vaguely hearing her words, he tried to answer, acknowledge her question, but he started coughing again. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision and he gave in and let it take him.

~*~

When he woke, there was bright light around him and he could hear the sounds of machines beside the bed he was strapped to. “Aeryn?”

“I’m here John. Shhh.” Her hand was warm as she caressed his cheek.

“Where?”

“Medical facility. You had an infection in your lungs; the fluid buildup was affecting your breathing. You’ve been given treatments. How do you feel?”

Sounded like pneumonia, great. Space pneumonia, something else he could add to his list of experiences. He grimaced. “My chest hurts, like I got tackled by a linebacker.”

She smiled. “Moya’s security sensors showed a linebacker roaming the level three maintenance access corridors.”

“Did you make a joke?”

Aeryn shrugged her shoulders and tugged the edge of his blanket higher up on his chest. “Was it funny?”

Rather than answer, he changed the subject. “Where’s Little D?”

“Chasing linebackers through access tunnels on his hands and knees? He is with Chiana, flirting with the medical assistants. You frightened me, John.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you. Try not to do it again.”

 

 **The Time Before**  
It is quite likely that the large majority of Peacekeeper Leviathan remember two times; the time before the collar and the time after the collar. 

The time before the collar, youth, was the time of freedom. It was over so quickly, enjoyed for to short a season. The time after was the time of the pilot, the time of service, the remainder of life.

Moya remembers those times, she thinks on them as she floats in orbit above a water world. She remembers diving through atmospheres when she was much smaller, swimming and reveling in the press of gravity upon her developing body. Flight was random; she went where the solar winds took her, in her youth, when no lifeforms roamed her body. When no pilot steered her course, she could glide and spin, play at the edge of suns, bask in the warmth, soak up the radiant heat of stars.

Along came her Pilot, the first. They became joined, became one being. Moya had not known she was alone as she played among the stars, and then, she was not. Her life was rich and full with this new addition. Pilot cared for her, taught her, and together they were happy.

Then came the collar. With the collar came the worst pain Moya had ever experienced in her short life. When the collaring was done, Moya and pilot were no longer free. She served masters; she did the bidding of the Peacekeepers. 

One day, there was again pain. And her beloved Pilot was gone. Another was put into her place. In time, Moya came to accord with this new Pilot that had been forced upon her. Together, they served their Peacekeeper masters, until, together, they decided they would not.

The after time began. Moya knew freedom once more. She learned of the joy of bringing forth life from within herself and the pain of seeing that life ended when her son Talyn came and left her life. The new family that had come to her soothed her hurt, filled her emptiness. Made her forget the worst of the time of captivity and servitude.

She knew pain again at the loss of peaceful Zhaan, one of the few beings Moya communed with, a lightness that had so briefly traveled with her at the beginning of the after time. The others carried on, helped once again to ease Moya’s pain.

The war ceased in the after time. Moya no longer needed to run, no longer needed to hide to protect her crew, her beloved family. Crichton had done that. He had brought and end to the fearsome days for Moya and Pilot. 

‘Most of the fearsome days.’ Moya thought as her hull was rocked by yet another internal explosion. D’argo Sun Crichton was experimenting again, according to Pilot. She sealed off the section of the hull that was leaking oxygen and sent a dozen DRDs to repair this latest damage. 

Once the DRDs were dispatched, she sent another plea to Pilot to speak with John and Aeryn about the dismantling science lab in the rear cargo bay. The boy was enthusiastic in his studies and his enthusiasm was proving to be detrimental to Moya’s health. 

But Moya wouldn’t change anything about the after time. This was a good life. She and Pilot were free. Aeryn would come to Pilot’s den after she would sooth over the riot of emotions her offspring’s mischief had caused. All would be well.

She lurched to the side with the force of another concussive blast. All would be well if D’argo didn’t destroy them all.


End file.
